Women of the Dark Streets

by Radclyffe

  The skin on the back of Toni’s neck tingled. She wondered if Shannon could feel her attraction as she moved the pen across the board. A wand tracing symbols as the magic moved through the wizard in waves.

  Toni studied Shannon’s round buttocks, imagining they shook with each letter. She could almost see the faint tremors from across the room. Tits and ass, and a brain too! Toni felt herself getting wet. She couldn’t continue or she would lose herself in those daydreams of desire. She willed herself to focus on the task before her. She wasn’t there for a date, no matter how much she wished she were. She had to show Shannon the photos of the crime scene. She was there to work a case, a disturbingly calculated and gruesome case.

  Shannon faced her audience again. “They take tragedies and make them into romances—disguising the reality—dressing it up, like a pig in lipstick.”

  “Bloodsucking monsters made into love interests.” Toni heard her own words escape and dance before the woman who entranced her.

  Shannon’s face rose toward where Toni leaned against the back wall. Their eyes met briefly. “Yes. Thank you.” Although she was apparently speaking to Toni, Shannon’s dark eyes seemed to look through her. Toni was disappointed when Shannon quickly turned back to her students. Pointing her fat pen at them, she said, “Vampires.”

  Shannon’s tone was matter-of-fact and her face impassive. Damn woman, I thought at least you’d be glad to see me. Toni crossed her arms and shifted her feet. Perhaps I have waited too long to make my move.

  Closing her eyes, Toni recalled the image of Shannon soaked to the skin by an unexpected rainstorm. The outlines of Shannon’s chilled nipples had nearly sent Toni over the edge of the ravine they were traversing. The case had involved five juvenile delinquents who fancied themselves Satan worshipers, a number of pet disappearances, and one missing toddler, who thankfully was found alive.

  “But they’re only myths anyway. Why does it matter?” A male voice snapped Toni back to the room.

  Shannon assaulted the board, which was now covered with words. “Because movies still glamorize them, warping the truth and the myths, butchering the reality of that myth.” Her tone changed periodically as she wrote or circled words. “Behaviors made taboo by the myth are embraced by certain groups and those behaviors are…” Rotating on her heel, she recapped her pen and pointed it at her theater of students. “Those behaviors could be potentially harmful.”

  “But, that isn’t Hollywood’s fault,” a girl in the front row said. “It’s like ‘guns don’t kill people, people do.’ I don’t see how the Titanic or even vampires being used for a romance hurts anyone. It’s the movies. It’s all fiction anyway. How can it hurt reality?”

  “Perfect segue.” Shannon nodded. “That is what I want you to think about. Your next essay will discuss how the media affects popular culture.”

  A collective moan rose and Toni couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Now keep in mind what’s important here: crime, harmful attitudes, and behaviors of the deviant mind, not Gucci handbags and hairstyles.” Shannon waved a stack of papers at her students. Her eyes shimmered with mirth. “Here’s your chance to tell me what you think. It’s not a research paper. No brainiacs putting words in your mouth. This is all you. No heavy reading required.”

  I’d like to put you in my mouth, Toni thought. Heavy breathing, unavoidable.

  Shannon handed out the stack. “I want your opinion—supported, of course, with examples.” Each student silently took one sheet before quietly packing up. “E-mail me any questions. Have a good Easter break.”

  Students stood to leave, blocking Toni’s view as they made their way toward the door. Toni was surprised no one stayed to ask questions. If she were my teacher, I’d be hanging around all evening just to watch those lips move. Those lips and those hips. Whatever those lips and hips were doing, Toni would savor it. Every time they worked together, she experienced a bittersweet reward. The case would be solved, but then she wouldn’t see Shannon until the trial or the next case.

  While the last few students exited, Shannon began packing her supplies, her back to the room. Toni slunk toward her, imagining what it would feel like to embrace Shannon from behind. A naked embrace. She’d rub up and down slowly, exciting herself and the professor with soft tickles along Shannon’s back and buttocks.

  “So, Professor,” Toni said as she carefully leaned over Shannon and whispered in her ear, “care to join me for a bite?” Toni heard the professor’s sharp intake of breath. She knew she had startled her when Shannon grabbed the edge of the podium, but Toni remained close beside her. You are evil. Just plain evil. Toni smiled to herself. She resisted the urge to kiss Shannon’s neck. Instead she moved away, giving Shannon a bit of space, and asked, “Do you believe in vampires?”

  “That, Lieutenant Nomikos, is a loaded question.” Shannon heaved her pack onto one shoulder. “I know you’re probably here on time-sensitive business.”

  Toni held up the envelope. “Crime scene photos, a consult, and we see where it leads us. You, me, and some stale coffee.” Waggling her eyebrows, she was pleased to see a smile forming on Shannon’s lips. She was glad that Shannon understood the cop humor that often horrified ordinary people. They both cared about the victims and empathized with the survivors and their families, but seeing the horrors they faced so frequently required some kind of distancing and coping mechanism or they couldn’t do their jobs as effectively as they did.

  “Always willing to help the boys in blue.”

  “Or the girls,” Toni added, her heart swelling as Shannon’s smile grew into a broad toothy attraction.

  “Yes, Antonia, all the kids clad in blue,” she said, emphasizing Toni’s full first name with what Shannon called a Greek accent. The first time she’d used it, Toni almost shot beer from her nose and nearly toppled her bar stool, because Shannon sounded more like Rocky Balboa or a Brooklyn Italian than a Greek. “You know I try to be available, whenever I can. But…”

  Damn and I thought I’d always like your butt.

  “…I have a departmental meeting I can’t get out of.” Shannon moved away to erase the board.

  “Maybe tomorrow, then? Are you free in the morning?” Toni felt a stab of disappointment. Not merely because the professor didn’t seem eager to help her, but Shannon wasn’t really looking at her either. She tried not to let her worry show as she continued, “The case is an odd one. You know I’ve grown to depend on your insights and expertise.” …as well as the refreshing scent of your skin and groin-tingling swell of your breast.

  Shannon was silent for a moment while she wiped away the evidence of her lecture. “It is always a pleasure to see you, Toni, and I know your work is important albeit unpleasant.”

  Did she just say it was a pleasure to see me? Always a pleasure to see me! Toni cleared her throat, allowing her voice to take on a low, calm and controlled tone. “Ah, well, I enjoy working with you too. Unfortunately unpleasant events come with the territory. We’re lucky to have you.” Inside, Toni was singing and running in circles. Her chest and shoulders filled with electricity and excitement. But she’s still not looking at you, Nomikos.

  Finishing the board, Shannon sighed. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve never left the Bureau.”

  “Twice the gore and crazies for half the price.” Toni laughed with an ease that denied the anxious feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. It unnerved her that Shannon was avoiding her eyes. She loved the professor’s chocolate gaze. She wondered if it was her imagination or if Shannon was trying to keep a physical distance from her. Whenever Toni thought they might be becoming more than just work colleagues, Shannon would turn to ice, leaving Toni to trail after her like an unwanted puppy.

  Shannon nodded toward the door. “I’m sorry. I really have to dash.” She paused, looking at her watch. “But…”

  More of your butt. Toni tried to bolster her courage and deny her growing apprehension.

  “…would you be able to come over to my
place later tonight? Say nine o’clock?”

  Toni tried not to act as if she’d just been Tasered. They were so close she could feel the heat radiating from Shannon’s body. She swallowed. “Yes. Of course. Thank you, Miss Flugle.”

  “That’s Dr. Flugle.” Shannon’s voice was suddenly husky. Silence filled the empty room. The air swirled thick with energy. After a moment, Shannon moved away. The door clicked closed behind her.

  *

  The clock on the mantel chimed softly. Shannon buzzed Toni in at the garden gate and crossed to the mirror by the front door. She eyed the beige camisole beneath her black blouse. Even though the camisole had the come-touch-me-I’m-silky-soft sheen to it, it wasn’t remotely transparent. Plus she was wearing a sensible beige bra her mother would be proud of. Blouse on? Blouse off? Deciding to leave it unbuttoned, Shannon flipped the blouse back onto her shoulders. She wanted a casual, relaxed look. It wasn’t sexy and it wouldn’t complicate matters any more than the inane risk of inviting Toni over again.

  What were you thinking? The invitation had popped out before she could stop it. Who are you trying to fool? You barely restrained yourself from running up the aisle and screaming her name with glee. Shannon scolded herself and her weakness for short, thick black hair and moss-colored eyes. They weren’t simply green eyes, but layers of feathery swirls with amber specks. She swore that sometimes those specks enveloped the green and Toni’s eyes turned to gold—glittering glass of the Sahara.

  Three quick raps on the door preceded it swinging open. Toni swept into the room. Her black leather pants and leather jacket meant that she had used the two hours to switch from her police sedan to her personal motorcycle. Shannon clenched her teeth to keep from whimpering. The officer haunted her dreams with promises of flying—the wind whipping by, tangling her hair and tickling her skin. Damn helmet laws.

  Shrugging off her backpack as she knocked the door closed with her boot, Toni cheered, “Greetings, weary scholar.” She held up a bottle and a brown bag, waving them. “I come bearing gifts!”

  “Whatever it is, I fear Greeks even when they bring gifts.”

  “Excuse me?” Toni stopped midway to the kitchen.

  “I’m misquoting Virgil.” Where’d that assitude come from, Dr. Flugle? Shannon’s heartbeat faltered. Did she fear Antonia Nomikos? Toni was adorable and delectable, but she also represented a danger to Shannon’s way of life—maybe even her life itself.

  “Have you given up wine for Lent?” Toni’s confusion was evident in her tone.

  “Ha, Lent? Hardly. Just a scholarly joke. Not even a good one. I’ll eat whatever you have in that bag. Oh, and thank you for being so thoughtful.” Good, Shannon, remember your manners. Follow the rules of civility, proper etiquette.

  “No worries. I’ll set it out,” Toni said, her tone clipped as she turned away. “Take a look at the photos. They’re in my pack.”

  She stared at Toni’s back. Is she trying to freeze me out? Then Shannon’s inner voice fired back, You’re one to talk, Miss Yesno Touchme Goaway! It was as if she had two voices in her—one was her heart and the other, her mind. Her heart was drawn to Toni, felt safe with her, and wanted to be held by her. Her mind warned her of the dangers that accompanied stepping beyond a work relationship. Ever since their first meeting, she’d been drawn to the officer but instead of giving in to her attraction and admitting her feelings, she constantly struggled to keep Toni at arm’s length.

  Shannon found the envelope and laid some of the pictures on the coffee table.

  Toni appeared from the kitchen carrying two plates piled high with roast beef on rye. “We got a double homicide. Very clean. Based on the wounds it should have been messy, but it wasn’t. Checked out their home address. Place looks to be in order.”

  Sight of the dill pickle wedge made Shannon’s mouth water, but her main urge was to toss aside the sandwich and bite Toni instead. Stay on track, Shannon. Work. No ties. No slips. No troubles. “So, the killer is a neat freak. You expecting more bodies?”

  Toni sighed. “I don’t know, Shannon. But, this was too bizarre not to call you. Given the bites and the fact that it was so clean.” She poured two glasses of wine and joined Shannon on the sofa.

  “Bites?” Shannon could feel Toni’s weight as Toni settled into the cushions beside her. Damn. Stay focused, Flugle. “What kind of bites? Human teeth or do you mean maybe dogs were used?”

  “A couple of puncture marks on the neck of one and what looks like an animal bite on the other—a messy wound, but very little blood.”

  While Shannon munched silently on her sandwich, a piece of onion took an Olympic dive to the carpet. She bent over, shifting on the couch to reach it, and when she returned to her seat she inadvertently bumped her ass against Toni’s knee and almost straddled it. She quickly shifted over and sat with a thud, thigh to thigh.

  She froze. So did Toni. Shannon caught her breath. Her brain blanked and her heart stopped in that moment. A moment that literally hurt her insides. She felt the heat of Toni’s thigh, like a flame scorching through the layers of material and searing her skin. She thought she heard a growl deep in Toni’s chest.

  You feel it too, Detective? Shannon tried to appear unaffected by the encounter. “Uh, sorry, my back-up-cams are in the shop.” She refocused on the photo to cover her disarray. “Well, a jealous lover perhaps, but it isn’t a vampire. They normally don’t kill their victims. Werewolves bite, but don’t just puncture. Wolves don’t usually clean up, either. And contrary to popular belief, they rarely attack humans.”

  “Okay…okay. I know I don’t have as many degrees as you, but I can’t tell if you’re yanking my chain.”

  Chain? Baby, I’ll yank your chain until your great-grandchildren feel it. “In what way?”

  “The werewolves and vampires stuff.” Toni picked up one of the photos. It was a close-up of the puncture marks.

  “You didn’t say there were any symbols that would reflect a religious cult. Nor was there anything to hint at a group orchestration, like a coven or cult. So I figured the scene you described suggests you’re thinking vampires or werewolves. They don’t usually stand on ceremony, but they can be either a group or solo practitioners, like Wiccans. Of course, Wiccans are white witches and usually don’t use human sacrifices.”

  “I’m a police officer, not a ghostbuster. I wasn’t thinking a real vampire or werewolf. I don’t believe in them, or zombies for that matter. Maybe psychotic Children of the Corn types who think blood gives them power, like those Wiccan weirdoes.”

  “Hey, I know a couple of Wiccans and they’re perfectly nice and even sane people. They don’t play with blood, well, except dragon’s blood, which has nothing to do with dragons or real blood.”

  Toni laughed and took another bite of her sandwich, clearly passing the subject off as a joke. “Look, I was thinking ritual cult killing.”

  “Worshippers of Kali might focus on blood-letting, but you can’t ignore the vampiric overtones here.”

  “I thought you were a Satanic cult expert, grounded in the reality of mankind’s evils. I didn’t know you worked on the X-files.” Toni’s tone was teasing.

  She’s not criticizing you. She just doesn’t understand. Shannon reminded herself that Toni’s naïveté, her ignorance, was yet another reason to keep her at a distance. How could she follow her feelings when she knew Toni lived in a completely different world?

  Shannon flipped through the pictures, turning some sideways and upside down. “There’s still a lot about me you don’t know, Toni.”

  “I’m always willing to learn.”

  Are you really? Shannon batted the question aside and picked up a photo. We’re working on a case. Focus on these poor victims, bloodless bodies. “Why drain them of blood? Why clean them up and set them out in the woods? If they weren’t in their skivvies, it would look like they’re just having a pleasant conversation after a picnic. Why the white underwear? Is it theirs or did the killer supply it?”


  Toni pointed at the picture. “It reminds me of those paintings of little angels with their tighty-whities.”

  Shannon stifled a laugh. “Those aren’t tighty-whities, but you’re right. Cherubs.” Do you wear tighty-whities or boxers, my little butch cop? Shannon wondered if she’d ever find out.

  Toni continued to lean into Shannon. “Okay, so they’re supposed to be innocents. Two clean little babies. Or like Christ. Maybe we missed some followers of Jade.”

  “That was two years ago.” Two freaking years and not one kiss from you. But I can feel your fire. Your desire.

  Toni continued, “I know she’s in jail, but maybe…”

  “That poser? Not a chance.” Shannon shook her head. “Looking at the scene, I’d say completely different from Jade. No symbols. No weapon.”

  “Hmmm, we have the purity image and the blood…or the lack of it,” Toni said.

  After a thoughtful moment, Shannon replied, “Puncture marks and teeth point to vampire. Drained of blood…solid vampire, but they usually don’t take a chunk, nor do they kill. Still looks like a vampire.”

  “Obviously, they took the blood, either for consumption or for external use. You think it’s someone playing at being a vampire?”

  The more cases they worked together, the more Shannon found herself enthralled by Toni’s mind, her thinking process. Discussing ideas and theories with her was exhilarating. Shannon wanted to rip her clothes off and tackle the tough little Greek. She turned away from Toni, feigning interest in the scraps of sandwich left on her plate rather than giving in to her desire to wrap the policewoman in her arms. “It’s no game.”

  “Very true. Two dead, and we have nothing to go on.”

  Even if Toni had missed the point, she was right. Shannon had a job to do. All thoughts of their naked warm bodies pressed together evaporated. People were dead and she had to get her head out from between Toni’s legs, no matter how muscular and curved those thighs and calves might be.